


Get By With Anyone

by doctorziegler



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, BDSM, Cheating, Creampie, Cuckolding, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Humiliation, Lactation, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Masturbation, Milking, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Kink, Teasing, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Fingering, anal prolapse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 06:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8045311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorziegler/pseuds/doctorziegler
Summary: While Jack's away on a mission, Gabriel finds himself growing increasingly anxious for his lover's unique brand of overpowering attention. Days later, during a routine workout session, Reinhardt decides to lend the long-suffering Blackwatch Commander a hand. Or two. And, okay, maybe even a little more than that, if a certain Strike-Commander (from over the phone, of course) has anything to say about it.





	Get By With Anyone

**Author's Note:**

> this is shameless self-fulfilling smut. trans gabe ofc, also this is assuming gabe & jack are in an established d/s relationship. enjoy, and i hope to see you around for chapter 2, which should be posted soon-ish!!
> 
> [ [twitter](https://twitter.com/heatvisions) / [nsfw twitter](https://twitter.com/DOOOMZO) ]

“What? No, no— I’m _fine_ , Jack,” Gabriel readjusted his grip on his cell phone, placing it in the crook of a shoulder and doing his best to keep the damn thing from slipping onto the gym room floor. “I’m just— I'm just tired, honest. Christ, you’re beginning to sound like my mother. Next thing I know, you’ll be asking if I’m eating enough when you aren’t around.”

Gabriel heard Reinhardt’s booming laugh sound from one of the nearby pieces of workout equipment, obviously entertained by what little of the Blackwatch and Strike-Commander’s conversation he was currently privy too. Gabriel rolled his eyes with feigned melodrama, not bothering to cast a glance over his shoulder— he’d seen Reinhardt pump enough iron to last a lifetime (or two), and he didn’t want to give the narcissistic, hammy attention-hog the satisfaction of knowing he’d pulled Gabriel’s attention away from _Jack_ , even if it was only during a phone call.

“Look, I’ve gotta go. You’re fucking with my routine here, Morrison.” Taking a sip of a neon-blue energy drink, Gabriel hopped off of the well-worn treadmill, wandering across the gym to settle himself into one of the nearby pec deck machines. “Yeah, I love you too, asshole. I’ll call you later tonight, okay? Yeah. Bye, babe.” Gabriel set his phone down on the padded floor, spreading his knees and taking a deep breath as Reinhardt suddenly came into view.

The Blackwatch Commander raised an eyebrow, doing a commendable job of keeping his eyes off of Reinhardt’s heated, naked muscles. Shit, did he _have_ to work out in shorts that short? There had to be some kinda decency rule against that, somewhere, in either one set of guidelines or another. “Come to tell me again how _cute_ it is when I call the Strike-Commander pet names, Wilhelm?”

Reinhardt chuckled, running a hand through his platinum hair as he took a few gulps of water from his own bottle. “ _Everything_ that you and Jack do is adorable, Gabriel. You know this already.”

“I fucking _hate_ you, you overstuffed sausage.”

“Ah, and I love you too, my dear Gabby.”

“Gonna kick your ass for always being so _sassy_ with me one of these days, Wilhelm, I swear to God—” Gabriel made a move to get up and advance against the much larger man, which just caused Reinhardt to open his arms wide, as if Gabriel was offering up little more than a friendly hug. This caused them both to laugh, Gabriel settling back while Reinhardt laid atop a bench press, the moment of their mutual teasing passed.

This was just how they were, the two of them; Reinhardt and Gabriel weren’t exactly the best of friends, not the way the others were with the would-be chivalrous German knight, but that didn’t mean Gabriel didn’t have a special sort of relationship with Reinhardt. They liked each other just fine, and either man would die for the other on the battlefield, no questions asked.

It was just sort of... _awkward_ , considering Reinhardt’s romantic feelings for Jack.

Gabriel absently rubbed his hands over his pecs; this definitely wasn’t the time to think about that, not when his discomfort was building up by the hour now, his nipples sore enough by now that focusing on his workout was gradually becoming impossible. He and Jack weren’t exactly in your average relationship, after all— Gabriel had always known the Strike-Commander was a dominant man, but he hadn’t imagined just how into acts of dominance and submission the man really was. In the bedroom, Jack was the boss, unquestioningly, in charge of _everything—_  while Gabriel got to lay back and be pampered, and, all Jack wanted in exchange for that was obedience— and, of course, Gabriel's total submission.

With the kind of life Gabriel had led, trusting someone enough to submit to them willingly was freeing enough, and Jack made it so, _so_ worth it, every single time.

Except, of course, for the times when Jack was hundreds or thousands of miles away, and Gabriel was left positively aching for his lover's touch. His tits felt full to bursting, having gone far too long without Jack’s nursing— sure, he’d talked Gabriel into milking himself over the phone only a few nights ago, but that— that just wasn’t the same, not by any means; wasn’t anywhere near as satisfying as having Jack’s demanding mouth suckling at his nipples until he all but fell apart under the Strike-Commander’s tender care.

Gabriel huffed, pulling his tank top away from his swollen nipples for just a moment, heat settling between his thighs at the mere idea of how good it’d be when Jack _finally_ got back from his mission, how _hard_ he was going to get screwed, milk dribbling down Jack’s chin, firm hands on his hips, Jack’s husky voice in his ear, telling him just how well he was doing—

The unexpected sound of suckling dragged Gabriel’s attention back to the present, gaze turning immediately to the source of the all-too-familiar noise.

“… Is there something the matter, my friend?” Reinhardt lowered the German-flag patterned water bottle he held in hand as he addressed Gabriel, one thick eyebrow raised at the startled expression on the younger man’s usually-stoic face. “You seem rather troubled, suddenly.” While awaiting Gabriel’s response, Reinhardt took another hearty drink, bottle upturned as his wrapped his mouth around the small nozzle and _sucked_.

‘Troubled’ was putting it lightly, as far as Gabriel was concerned. _Shit_.

That sound was going to _kill_ Gabriel if it didn’t let up soon, the insistent slurping of Reinhardt’s mouth against the bottle tip, the way his Adam’s apple was bobbing as he swallowed the liquid down— _fuck_ , his chest ached, nipples suddenly so hard they were visibly tenting his shirt. “I’m— it’s nothing,” he insisted, raising both arms above his head and running a hand through his dark curls. “Everybody knows my insomnia acts up when Jack’s not here to force my ass into bed.”

Reinhardt didn’t look entirely convinced, but he shrugged his shoulders anyway, absently thumbing at the saliva-slicked nozzle of his bottle and unintentionally making Gabriel’s tits tighten in growing desperation for attention. _Please, dear God, make him stop doing this right in fucking front of me._ “If it’s overnight company you require to have a good night of sleep, I am _always_ willing to lend a hand.”

Gabriel laughed, the sound coming out much more breathless than he’d intended. “Slow it down, Casanova. Screwing me actually isn’t some one-way ticket into Jack’s pants, you know; believe it or not.” Because _that’s_ what this was about, right? Reinhardt had been vying for a threesome for ages, trying to get his hands on the Strike-Commander by any means necessary.

Not that Gabriel wouldn’t go for a threesome, under the right circumstances— he wasn’t so insecure in his relationship with Jack that he actually viewed their mutual compatriot as a threat. Reinhardt was _hot_ , all nearly-seven-feet of him, with all of those rippling muscles and that pelt of platinum-blond chest hair, and— Christ, he really _was_ desperate for a fuck, wasn’t he? Reinhardt wasn’t showing any signs of letting up with that damned water bottle, either, tongue obscenely visible as he detached his mouth from the nozzle for what felt like the hundredth time in only a matter of minutes.

“You haven’t taken into consideration that it may currently be _your_ , ah, ‘form-fitting’ shorts— and not exclusively the Strike-Commander’s trousers, though, those also hug his hips rather nicely— that I’m trying to work my way into, have you?” Gabriel suddenly found his jaw captured between Reinhardt’s fingers, dark brown eyes going wide as he was forced— _encouraged_ to stare up at the older man while he so unabashedly flirted with one of his best friend’s significant other. “It seems you think that Jack is the only man I have eyes for; you would be wrong.”

“...  _Eye_ , Wilhelm. You can’t have ‘eyes’, plural, on _anything_ , seeing as how. Well. You don’t _have_ plural.”

“Such a smart mouth on you, ‘Reyes’,” Gabriel jerked his head back as Reinhardt teasingly dragged his thumb across his lower lip, the sensation sending more heat between Gabriel’s thighs than he honestly cared to admit. “Has no one ever put you in your place, for this attitude of yours?”

Gabriel sneered, pulling away from Reinhardt’s hand and leaning his back against the exercise equipment behind him. “You’d have to ask _Jack_ about that, now, wouldn’t you? Not like I’d ever let somebody I outrank pull that kind of shit with me.”

Reinhardt chuckled, setting his bottle down and cocking his head to one side. "Is that so." It wasn't so much a question as an arrogant challenge, and one that Gabriel felt much too inclined to meet, no matter that he knew all too well that Reinhardt was baiting him on purpose.

"Damn straight."

"Then, would you be so kind as to explain why you appear so desperate for immediate attention that you're practically dripping? Or— well, _literally_ dripping, I suppose." Reinhardt absently gestured to Gabriel's chest, and that—

That was when everything seemed to come crashing down around them both.

Gabriel glanced downward and his head began to spin; he  _was_ dripping, for fuck's sake, milk oozing from his too-long-untouched nipples and staining his shirt, turning it translucent even more noticeably than his sweat had. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut, vision blurred and stomach churning— he felt so  _embarrassed_ , like some horny teen caught with dirty magazines under his bed for the very first time. Reinhardt wouldn't stop staring, either, heavy gaze resting unflinchingly on Gabriel's leaking tits, as if he could think of nowhere better to look in all the world. "... Fuck," was all that Gabriel could think to say, shoving his hands into his underarms and attempting to hide his chest from the other man's invasive stare. "Alright, _alright_ , you've made your point; very fucking _funny_ , Wilhelm, humiliate the Blackwatch Commander when he's least expecting it— well played, now, fucking— get outta my way—"

As he attempted to stand, Reinhardt's hands found their way onto his shoulders, shoving him back into the pec deck machine's seat with a force that knocked whatever breath was still left in Gabriel's lungs from him. Gabriel's hands fell to his sides in shock, leaving his chest exposed for just long enough that Reinhardt got another eyeful of the mess he was currently turning his tank top into. "Not so fast," Reinhardt said with a smirk, hands sliding down onto Gabriel's tits almost affectionately. It made Gabriel  _ache_ , brow furrowed and chest heaving, the embarrassment still coursing through his veins and darkening his cheeks. "Not when you look like _this_ , Gabriel. What would the others say, if they witnessed a proud man such as you in such a state?"

Reinhardt's palms came to rest atop Gabriel's nipples and Gabriel  _groaned_ , pushing himself into the older man's touch without thought, without displaying an ounce of the bottomless guilt he felt building in his gut. This wasn't _fair_ , not when he'd never gone this long without Jack nursing from him before, not after Reinhardt's suckling, and— _Christ_ , had he done that deliberately? Did he _know_ , somehow, about the kind of shit that Gabriel and Jack got up to in the bedroom? "Wilhelm— _Reinhardt_ , what the fuck're you doing? Jack's— are you _seriously_ asking me to cheat on my boyfriend? On _your_ best friend?"

"I'm sure Jack would understand, if he saw the way you looked at this very moment." Reinhardt's thumbs encircled Gabriel's wet nipples, pinching them tortuously through the fabric of his tank top and nearly driving Gabriel wild with lust. The Blackwatch Commander's hips raised off of the pec deck machine, thighs squeezed together in an attempt to relieve at least a fraction of the pressure building between his weakening legs. "... _If_ you tell me to stop, though, of course I will. I require  _your_ permission, at least; Jack's approval can come later."

Gabriel felt so hot, dizzy and beyond worked-up, soaking his own gym shorts and, more likely than not, the equipment bench beneath him. He _did_ want this, desperately so, years of tension shared between he and the large German soldier reaching an overwhelming apex that arguably neither of them had expected. Gabriel worried his lower lip between his teeth, glancing down at Reinhardt's hands for a moment before meeting the other man's scarred gaze. "You literally-enormous bastard, of _course_ I don't want you to stop— not _now_." As Reinhardt raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading across his handsome face, Gabriel pressed forward again, knees parting and hands coming to rest against Reinhardt's thick waist. "Not after that little display you put on with the _fucking_ water bottle. You're a damn  _tease_ , you know that? I'm _definitely_ telling the Strike-Commander about that, as soon as he's back—"

"And why should we wait so long to do that?" Reinhardt studied the confusion on Gabriel's face with a growing grin, reaching down to snatch Gabriel's cell phone and immediately pressing the 'dial' button next to Jack's name.

In the seconds that followed, Gabriel might have screamed, if he'd felt able to find his voice.

By the time Jack answered, Gabriel was on his back atop the bench press Reinhardt had been using, his tank top forced up into his armpits as Reinhardt began eagerly nursing from him. He was going to  _die_ ; his cell was on speaker, Reinhardt having deposited it next to Gabriel's head before beginning to suckle at the younger man's swollen nipples.

" _You aren't usually **this** clingy_ ," came Jack's voice a couple of heartbeats later, sending a spike of guilt and excitement into Gabriel's groin simultaneously. " _What'd you need?_ "

Gabriel's lip shook, doing his damnedest not to moan aloud as Reinhardt began pulling the Blackwatch Commander's shorts down, mouth latching onto the nipple he'd been so far ignoring. "... I—"

Reinhardt glanced up at Gabriel's face, drinking in the sight as hungrily as the man's milk; Gabriel looked  _perfect_ like this, and it was suddenly extremely obvious why Jack so fiercely loved reducing him to such a state on a regular basis. Reinhardt discarded Gabriel's shorts easily, large hands moving to part Gabriel's thighs before delving between them.

"... _Gabriel? What's wrong?_ " After a moment of listening to Gabriel's labored breathing, Jack was beginning to sound worried, obviously jumping to conclusions— as Overwatch's overbearing Strike-Commander was wont to do. 

"Jack," Gabriel breathed, head turned towards where the phone was laying, lashes lowered and looking _far_ too pretty, as far as Reinhardt was concerned. "It's, it's _Reinhardt_ , he's— he's— oh, _shit—_ " Reinhardt ran two fingers down Gabriel's wet slit, thumb encircling the man's large, pierced clit. Gabriel was already soaked, naturally-puffy lips swollen and hole exposed, desperate for a fuck he'd been denied for much too long. "Oh, fuck, _Jack_."

Reinhardt gathered as much wetness onto his fingers as possible before dipping lower, nudging Gabriel's legs apart further and pressing his middle finger into the man's asshole. At that, Gabriel  _did_ moan, hips lifting eagerly off of the bench and spine curving, eager to get as much of both Reinhardt's mouth on his tits and fingers in his ass as was physically possible. 

Jack's exhale into the phone was shaky enough that Gabriel swore he could feel his lover's breath against his neck, despite the distance between them; Jack undoubtedly assumed Gabriel was touching himself, and not— not being touched by someone  _else_ , and the idea of telling Jack that made Gabriel's insides twist into knots. " _Miss me that much, huh?_ "

Gabriel made a strangled sound as Reinhardt inserted a second finger, stretching his asshole with ease— Jack was  _obsessed_ with anal play, so Gabriel often wore a plug during off-hours, just to be certain he stayed as 'accessible' as the Strike-Commander wanted him to be. Reinhardt's entire focus was on Gabriel's hole, ignoring his flushed-dark cunt despite how picture-perfect it was. Gabriel's pussy-juices made fingering him even easier, dripping down from his eagerly-gaping cunt onto Reinhardt's thick fingers; typically, Reinhardt needed to take at  _least_ an hour before feeling comfortable inserting a third finger into his lovers, if he ever even could. Gabriel, however, was taking him like a pro, asshole stretching and accepting each digit Reinhardt added as if the idea of being empty was akin to agony.

Removing his mouth from Gabriel's soppy tits, Reinhardt raised his head, milk dripping down into his beard in a way that made Gabriel moan even more loudly than before. "He does, Jack," Reinhardt's voice was unmistakable, accent coloring his words in a way that Jack knew all too well. "He was so _needy_ , you see, and I simply couldn't leave him unsatisfied for any longer." A smug chuckle escaped Reinhardt as he wiggled his fingers from side to side, dragging a high-pitched noise from Gabriel's throat as his ass was overstimulated. "You don't mind, do you?"

"... _Holy shit, Reinhardt; **what—**_ "

"His fingers are inside me, Jack," Gabriel blurted, unabashed despite the humiliation visible on his face. "He's— shit, he's _milking_ me, Jack; with his mouth, his _mouth_ , he's— drinking my— oh, _God—_ "

With the hand not preoccupied with stretching Gabriel's asshole open, Reinhardt tweaked Gabriel's nipple, squirting milk into the air as he continued to suckle away at Gabriel's other tit. It all felt so good, so shamefully  _good_ ; Gabriel's thighs shook as he heard Jack shuffling about, the distinct sound of a zipper being pulled down reaching his ears. " _You're cheating on me, Gabe? You fucking called me, while you're **cheating** on me?_ " Gabriel moaned at Jack's accusatory words, imagining the blond pulling his cock out and beginning to fondle it beneath his desk. He probably looked more angry than turned-on, jaw clenched and gaze icy. " _You're such a **whore** , you know that? I can't believe this; what else is he doing to you, huh? Tell me."_

Gabriel knocked Reinhardt on the side of the head when he laughed again, far too amused by this entire situation for Gabriel's liking. 

As if in response, Reinhardt inserted a fourth finger, burying them to the knuckle and eliciting what could only be described as a scream from the Blackwatch Commander. Reinhardt's fingers were  _huge_ , all four of them as big as some of the biggest toys that he'd ever put inside himself, but— unlike a dildo,  _he_ wasn't in control of them, and Reinhardt was using that to his advantage, twisting and spreading and otherwise driving Gabriel wild with want. "He's— he's got his f-fingers, in, in my hole—"

" _Which hole?_ " Jack sounded even angrier now, if possible, practically snapping the question into the phone. "...  _If you let him fuck your cunt, Gabriel, I swear to God, I—_ "

"My ass!" Gabriel promptly answered, a switch of obedience having obviously been flipped by Jack's tone, reaching up to rest a hand next to his cell phone, as if that would placate Jack, somehow. "He's in my ass, Jack; he's barely touched me anywhere else, I swear, baby; I _swear_."

Reinhardt cocked an eyebrow, intrigued to be privy to this glimpse inside the Overwatch commanders' relationship; people often took bets on who was more often in charge in the bedroom, between the two of them, and the past few minutes had definitely given Reinhardt the answer he'd always suspected. "I will not touch him where you'd prefer I didn't, Jack. I promise." Reinhardt sat back, leaving Gabriel's tits exposed to the air, milk staining the man's dark skin as it continued to leak out, even without stimulation. "... May I continue to take care of his, ah, 'condition', however? I don't think I have the heart to leave him in such a sorry state."

There was a pause that seemed to come from Jack weighing his options, a drawer audibly sliding open and shut on his end of the line— grabbing lube, Gabriel knew, from the years he'd spent getting screwed over Jack's many desks. "... _Fine_ ," Jack finally said, releasing a soft breath into the receiver. "...  _How many fingers are you using right now, Reinhardt?_ "

"Four," Reinhardt openly confessed, reaching up to grab Gabriel's cell and positioning it between the man's spread thighs. "Would you like to see?"

Gabriel muffled a too-loud moan into his palm, flushed face hidden behind his hand; Jack  _groaned_ , and Reinhardt and Gabriel both could only imagine what Jack might have been doing to himself at that moment. " _Fuck, yeah, Rein. Show me._ "

A subtle 'click' sounded as Reinhardt snapped a photo, opening up Gabriel's text messages and sending the file to Jack. Gabriel's heart was in his throat now, reaching down to rub almost lazily at his swollen clit, the barbel piercing sliding up and down as he did so. "I'm— so full, baby," he murmured, trying to find his voice, his  _attitude_ , after having been reduced to such a pathetic _bitch_ by this entire situation. "His hands are _huge—_  a _lot_ bigger than yours—"

It was obvious when Jack finally received— and viewed— the obscene picture, nearly dropping his own cell onto the desk as he scrambled to hang onto his composure. He didn't comment on it, though, the line going unnaturally silent as Jack muted himself; Gabriel was half-afraid he'd hung up, until Reinhardt wordlessly reassured him, planting the phone in the middle of Gabriel's chest and letting him see that the call had been temporarily put on-hold. "Regaining his composure, I imagine," Reinhardt said with a pleased grin, leaning up to place a kiss— their  _first_ kiss, Gabriel thought— to Gabriel's full lips. "... Or, perhaps, he just received a call from an ambassador— or someone of some such importance— that he couldn't ignore."

Gabriel snorted, raising his knees and stretching his legs, working some of the built-up tension from his body as Reinhardt attempted to soothe his nerves. " _That_ would be unfortunate. I just hope nobody walked i—"

" _Reinhardt_ ," Jack was back, suddenly, catching both men off-guard as their attention was suddenly drawn to the phone resting between Gabriel's tits. " _Do you have lube?_ "

"... In my room, yes, but we're currently in the gym—"

" _So, either you take him to your room, or, you go get the lube. Now._ " Again, Jack's tone sent a shiver down Gabriel's spine; he'd do  _anything_ if Jack asked him in that voice, exercising full authority over his lover.

Reinhardt paused, clearly not compromised by Jack's commands in the way that Gabriel was. "May I ask _why_ , before I'm forced to leave this delectably warm hole behind for a few moments?"

Jack laughed, breathless, a door slamming shut from Jack's end. He must have left his office when he'd muted the call, headed for his quarters, maybe— to jerk off someplace more private, no doubt. " _Because_ ," Jack explained, audibly shrugging off his jacket, " _I want you to **fist** him, Rein, and you're gonna need a little more lubrication than whatever his pussy's able to produce to manage something like that. Isn't that right, Gabe? Since his hands are 'so much bigger than mine'— isn't that what you said?"_

Gabriel wasn't sure whether his own moan or Reinhardt's was louder, Reinhardt burying his face between Gabriel's legs momentarily, clearly attempting to calm down enough to follow Jack's orders. Gabriel himself, however, couldn't stop trembling, one hand buried in Reinhardt's pale hair, grinding his cunt into Reinhardt's jaw as if to alleviate even a little of the agonizing pressure plaguing him. Jack wanted— wanted Reinhardt to  _fist_ him; Gabriel thought of how full he was from Reinhardt's fingers alone, scarcely able to imagine what the man's entire  _hand_ was going to feel like inside of him. Would that be the largest thing he'd ever taken into his ass? The furthest he'd ever allowed himself to be stretched? Undoubtedly, and Jack wouldn't even be here to _see_ it.

Shit, the by-the-books commander could be an outright  _deviant_ , when he wanted to be.

(Not that Gabriel wasn't the one who'd kind of, well, inadvertently _started_ this whole thing. That _wasn't_ the point, though.)

Suddenly, Reinhardt was tugging Gabriel's tank top down, eliciting a gasp from the Blackwatch Commander's mouth as the fabric dragged over his sensitized, swollen nipples. Gabriel followed Reinhardt's lead, pulling his shorts back on with trembling hands, deciding that taking this to Reinhardt's room probably  _was_ the wisest course of action.

Somebody  _could_ accidentally walk in on this, and Gabriel wasn't in the mood to have to deal with the fallout of  _that_.

"We'll call you back in a couple minutes," Gabriel said, turning his phone off speaker and putting it in the crook of his neck as he shimmied the rest of the way into his shorts. "... I love you, baby, you know that, right?"

Jack hummed, almost like he was trying to swallow a laugh, and Gabriel couldn't help but smile. " _Stop dawdling, Reyes. I'm gonna get blue-balls here, if you don't hurry the fuck up._ "

"Sir, yes, _sir_. Christ, you're a fuckin' drama queen, Morrison."

" _Says **you—**_ "

Gabriel hung up, a crooked grin on his face, switching off the lights in the gym and heading out into the hallway, eagerly following Reinhardt to his room with bated breath and shaking knees.

[ **to be continued** ]


End file.
